by Kitty Thomas
She didn't know which of them did what and she'd given up trying to figure it out. Then the vibrating toy was pressed against her clit. “Come for us now, kitten,” Lindsay said.
She bucked helplessly against the harsh vibrations until she screamed out her own pleasure. Then the toy was taken away. Her wrists were untied. Lips caressed the raw skin. Then the two men pulled back the covers, arranged her in the middle, and got into bed with her.
“Rest,” Damian said.
No one removed her blindfold as their bodies folded into each other to sleep.
Chapter Twenty
It had been a little less than a week since the new arrangement.
The nightmares of Brian had left, and they hadn't returned. Shannon knew now that the reason they'd tormented her for so long was the unspoken and unfinished threat that had hung on the air between her and Brian. Nothing had felt settled between them—until the night she came back to the house.
She'd seen the subtle shift in him, the way she'd gone from being someone he wanted to punish, to someone he wanted to hurt because of his hatred of Lindsay, to someone he'd decided was now to be protected.
It was like Mina, but different. Brian had no feelings for Shannon. Actually that wasn't true. He felt something. It wasn't lust or love. It was... complicated. Respect, maybe? Whatever it was, and despite the ugly history she would never truly forgive him for, it seemed that she had shifted into the closest thing Brian could get to a friend. And though she'd never see him that way because of what he'd done to her, she wouldn't complain about the fact that he saw her that way. It was the thing that kept her safe.
Except for the rage and his own pain, Brian didn't feel much for other people, but what little he did feel, Shannon knew without any doubt that she'd never be in danger from him again.
It was Friday evening. She'd just returned from her day at the spa and shopping and exploring around the city. She'd skipped the beach because she knew she'd get plenty of the beach soon enough and the beach would make her think about Damian. And thinking about Damian would just tie her stomach in knots because she had a punishment coming. Tonight.
She walked into the back office to find Lindsay scribbling down some notes. He looked up at her and placed them in the folder of a new patient.
“Ready, kitten?”
“Yes, Master.” Shannon's hand strayed unconsciously to her bare throat. She felt the absence of the metal that no longer sat comfortingly against her skin. She wanted it back so badly. Every time she tried to work up the courage to ask, the words died in her throat. Besides, Lindsay had already made his decision... she'd get a collar when they decided she got a collar. But she wanted her collar. Not another one. She loved that collar. It was the singular thing she'd ever worn that made her feel beautiful.
They were quiet on the drive to Damian's. This would be the first time she'd see him since that day at the house when all the decisions had been made.
Lindsay parked in front of the large glass house and got out of the car. Shannon waited, knowing he would come around and get her door. He liked to be old-fashioned and she liked the gallant gesture—especially given the dark and dirty way he liked to treat her. She felt like less of a whore as long as he was opening her car door. As fucked up as that was.
She took his hand as he helped her out and guided her to the front of the house. Was this going to be weird and awkward? The three of them seeing each other again? Although it had only been a few days, it felt as though months or years had passed since the last time the three of them had been together at the house.
Lindsay didn't have to ring the bell. Damian was already there, opening the door and standing aside to let them both in.
Shannon stood hesitantly in the doorway even as Lindsay had already crossed the threshold and made his way into the house. Damian's hungry gaze found her breasts, admiring the way her nipples protruded through her shirt. He looked up and smiled at her, then took her hand and pulled her through the door.
She truly did want him. She wanted them both. It hadn't been a rejection to go back to Lindsay and the house. She just hadn't been willing to let the doctor go.
“Are you hungry?”
She was starving, but she'd been too nervous to think about food. She'd been nervous all day in fact, wondering how all of this was going to go down—if it could even work. One master felt precarious. What if he turned dark and violent? What if he lost interest and abandoned her? But two? It felt like double the risk. Double the potential pain. The balance of it all felt so very delicate. It was part of why she hadn't asked questions.
She wanted to berate herself for feeling this way. Even though she hadn't known it, Shannon had already been in this relationship with the two men. She just hadn't fully realized what Lindsay was orchestrating behind the scenes.
Lindsay had already taken off his jacket. He stood at the table, fixing all three of their plates. Damian had made a roast that had been simmering in a crock pot with carrots and potatoes. There were also green peas and rolls. A red wine sat breathing on the table, the cork lying on the glass tabletop in a small pool of the dark-colored liquid. Each place setting held a goblet filled with water and a wine glass.
Damian pulled out a chair for Shannon and she sat and took a sip of her water. Her chair was alone on one side of the table. Damian and Lindsay's chairs were together on the other. The power imbalance couldn't have been more clear.
The two men shared a look Shannon couldn't decode, but it was about her. Dinner was a silent affair composed of shy looks from her and answering possession from the two men across from her.
After they'd eaten, Lindsay cleared the dishes away as Damian came around once again, pulled her chair out, and guided her to the basement door. Lindsay was with them a few moments later, and they all went down the stairs together.
There were two chairs in the center of the room facing one another. Lindsay sat in one. Damian flipped a switch on the wall which turned on a light that shone down and spotlighted the large space between the two chairs, then he sat in the vacant chair.
“Go retrieve the package from the bed,” Lindsay said, his eyes never leaving her.
She crossed the floor, her heels echoing over the concrete, the sound bouncing off the walls. She picked up a black velvet box with a red bow on the top and brought it back, her heart hammering in her chest. She didn't want to let herself hope that what she thought was in the box was in the box.
“Open it,” Damian said, when she was standing once again under the spotlight between them.
She untied the ribbon and opened the box. She could barely breathe. It was her collar. Not a collar, her collar. The same one.
“Read the inscription,” Lindsay said.
Shannon took the jewelry out and held it up to the light to read the inscription on the underside of the band. It read, “Property of Dr. Lindsay Smith and Damian Brand.”
“From now on, you aren't wearing my collar, you're wearing our collar. Whichever one of us you spend more time with, you belong to both of us equally. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Master,” Shannon said, unlatching it and putting the collar back on.
“And if you try to play us against one another, you will regret it,” Damian added.
She met his serious gaze and nodded.
“Title,” Damian demanded.
“Yes, Master,” she said to Damian.
“Good girl.”
“Now, undress. It's time for your punishment,” Lindsay said.
Shannon's hands trembled as she kicked off the wedge sandals and removed the jeans and T-shirt she'd worn in the city during her free afternoon. Both of them watched as if they'd never seen her undress before. She'd worn sexy underwear, a black cup-less bustier that had made her nipples poke out through the T-shirt, and a matching black thong.
“Nice,” Damian said. “Is this a ploy to earn a lighter punishment?”
“N-no, Master. I-I just wore it to please you.”
He chuckled at that and crooked a finger at her. She walked over to Damian. When she reached him, his hands spanned her waist, then he slipped the panties down over her hips and to the floor.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
She turned and he unhooked each little hook that held the bustier tight against her body. When she was free of it, he stroked her back. She knew he was inspecting it, to see if she'd healed properly from Brian's bullwhip earlier in the week.
“All healed. Good,” he said. “That means I get to punish you.”
Shannon felt her lip begin to quiver again.
“Tell me, baby, what are you being punished for?”
“For putting myself in danger,” she said.
Lindsay rose from his own chair and came to stand in front of her. He brought the familiar tube of arousal cream out of his pocket and rubbed a generous amount into her pussy. She blushed, wondering if he'd explained the cream's effects to Damian.
“You want her to like her punishment?” Damian asked with a chuckle.
Lindsay shrugged. “It makes things more interesting.” Then he turned back to Shannon, his expression more serious. “Kitten, we're going to tie you to the St. Andrew's cross. Damian is going to use the bullwhip.”
Her eyes widened. “No!” She tried to get away, but Damian held her firm. Lindsay blocked her escape from the other side. She started to cry. “Please, Master, no, not that. You promised you'd never use those things. You promised.” The last words came out in a hurt whisper.
Lindsay brushed his fingers gently through her hair. “That was when I thought you were broken. That was before Brian tried to create a re-enactment of your destruction and you still came back to the house. And you know, exposure is the best therapy. I've always thought so.”
She shook her head, the tears streaming down in earnest now. “Please, please, anything but that. Please don't let him...”
Damian was behind her, rubbing her lower back in slow, soothing circles, as if he wasn't planning to whip her with the one kind of whip she couldn't take.
“Please,” she pleaded again. “Please... mercy.”
Lindsay pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Damian knows how to use a bullwhip properly. He's spent a lot of time learning. He's used it in play on many people. He will not hurt you. It will hurt, but he won't break the skin. Trust us. Your story started with the bullwhip. I really think it has to end in the same place. Don't you?”
“End?”
“Yes, kitten. You have to end one story before you can start a new one. Aren't you ready for a new story?”
“Yes, but...” The words died on her lips as he bent to kiss her, his hand wrapping around the back of her neck, pulling her into him.
He took her hands and led her over to equipment.
“Spread your arms and legs out for us like a good girl.”
Shannon did as she was told. Damian secured her ankles and wrists while Lindsay stroked her back.
“Just breathe,” he said.
She tried to focus on breathing. She turned to Damian. “Master, how many lashes?”
“Five,” he said. “You will count them.”
She turned to Lindsay, the fear and panic beginning to fade as anger started to rise up in its place. “Are you going to let him cut me, too? Where's the knife? Brian used a knife.”
Lindsay smacked her hard on the ass. “That's enough! You have to go through this, and then the rest of the night is pleasure.” He moved back out of the way, his arms crossed over his chest, observing. Of course he would protect her. He'd step in if Damian broke her skin. Wouldn't he?
The bullwhip cracked in the air next to her, and she started to sob. “Please,” she whimpered. “Please don't do this.”
Then the first lash fell. She yelped more in surprise than pain. It hurt, but not like when Brian had done it.
“Count!” Damian ordered. “I want to make sure you stay with me.”
“O-one,” she said.
The second lash fell, a harsh, burning sting, but it didn't feel like it was flaying her open like before. She let out a long, slow breath. “Two.”
The third was harder, and her hands balled into helpless fists, tears tracking down her face. “Please, please...” she whimpered, beginning to panic again.
“Count.”
“T-three.”
The fourth was the same as the third. She cried some more but found a way to say, “Four” without prompting this time.
“One more, baby, then we're all done.”
She moaned and started to squirm. The arousal cream was kicking in. “Please...”, but this time she was begging for something else.
“Be still or I could hurt you,” he warned.
Shannon nodded and bit her lip, struggling to stay still. They could have bound her at the waist, but they hadn't. Because Brian hadn't.
The whip landed one last time, the final blow the hardest. She let out a scream, but he was already there, stroking her back, running his tongue over the marks he no doubt had left.
“How many was that?” Damian asked softly.
“Five, Master.”
“Good girl.” He pressed kisses along the whip lashes. “I didn't break the skin,” he whispered. “No blood. There won't be any scars.”
She struggled and wriggled in her bonds. “Please,” she whimpered again.
“I'm going upstairs to start the water,” Lindsay said.
He left and Damian untied her ankles and wrists and pulled her into his arms. He held her and whispered into her ear what a good girl she was and how much she'd pleased him. Then he urged her to wrap her arms around his neck and he carried her up the stairs out of the dungeon and then up the second flight of stairs, down the hall, and to his bedroom.
As they passed his bed, she caught a glimpse of a large array of toys he'd already brought up here. The two men had clearly planned the entire night down to the smallest detail. When they got into the bathroom, Damian sat her down on the wide edge of the tub.
Lindsay was already drawing a bath for her. He poured in the milk and honey Damian used, then took the food back down to the kitchen. Damian held her while the tub filled. Lindsay returned and turned the water off, and they eased her into the tub.
It was hot—almost too hot—and she whimpered as the water touched her back.
“Shhhh,” Damian soothed. “It's okay.”
She calmed as the pain receded and what had felt like a thousand tiny knives started to feel soothing and comforting. The two men washed her then much like Damian had over the weekend.
Both of them lathered and massaged and kneaded and then gently rinsed her. They were careful with her back to touch her lightly there.
Then Damian was at her back entrance, cleaning and preparing her as he had before. His fingers slid between her cheeks, cleaning and massaging. Then one finger eased inside her, and she moaned. “You're a dirty little slut,” Damian said, “And now Lindsay will know it. He's going to watch me fuck your ass tonight. He's going to see what a good little anal slut you really are.”
She moaned and only rocked into him harder.
When she was clean to Damian's satisfaction, he drained the water from the tub, helped her out, and dried her off. He smacked her ass and said “Go get in the bed.”
Shannon laid down on the bed in his room, her heart pounding in her chest, both nervous and excited. She'd begged him many times during their short time together to fuck her ass. He'd spent nearly the entire weekend working her up, easing her open so she would accept him when he was ready to put his cock in her ass.
Now it was actually going to happen.
“Lie on your back and spread your legs,” Lindsay said.
She did what he said, and then he pulled out the arousal cream again. Shannon's breath hitched in her throat as he smoothed the cream between her legs, massaging it into every part of her pussy. He used a generous amount, and she whimpered at the thought of what would happen when that cream kicked in again.
Lindsay loosened and removed his tie, then unbuttoned his shirt, never taking his eyes from her. He made quick work of the rest of his clothes, then sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Shannon over to him.
He positioned her so that she was on her stomach, her face next to his erect cock. “You're going to get me off while Damian takes care of your ass. Lick and stroke me. And take your time. We've got time.”
Damian watched her while she ran her fingertips lightly over Lindsay's hardened length. She watched him, as he undressed. Then she began to lick where her hand had been stroking. Lindsay's hand fisted in her hair, making sure she kept her focus where he wanted it no matter what Damian did to her ass.
Damian propped her up on her knees, forcing her to readjust her oral technique. The buzzing started, and then Damian was pressing a vibrator against her opening, not going inside, teasing her... starting the long process that tonight would end with his cock inside her ass.
Her stomach fluttered in perverse excitement over that. The arousal cream was kicking in hard, causing her to try to grind her pussy against the bunched up blankets on the bed. Damian smacked her ass.
“We are in control of your pleasure. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” she gasped as he pressed the toy harder against her ass. “More. Please. Please fuck me there.”
Damian chuckled. “What did I tell you? Good little anal slut.”
Lindsay stroked her back. “Kitten, you're neglecting your duties.”
She tried to focus on sucking his cock, but it was so hard with the things Damian was doing to her.
“I'm sorry, Master,” she said to Lindsay.
He chuckled. “It's okay, Kitten. Just lick and touch. I'll fuck you when Damian is done.”
That promise sent a thrill of excitement straight to her cunt.
Damian pushed a lubed finger into her, gently fucking her ass with it. He worked her slowly through his arsenal of toys, some vibrating, some not, all while the arousal cream drove her on to deeper madness. She bucked against him, fucking each toy he put inside her ass with more desperation.
